Of Meetings and Language Barriers
by CheyanneChika
Summary: A modern reincarnation fic. A patient is found by the roadside and the only word anyone can make out is "Merlin". Well, there just happens to be a Merlin at the hospital. Maybe he can help. Not a whole lot of plot, but something I desperately needed to write.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my newest story. I don't own _Merlin,_ by the way. For those of you who know me know that, until last night, I haven't posted in eight weeks. The reason for that is that I was job hunting, which sucks at my soul. But I got a job and suddenly, I can write again. **

**So, _Merlin_ is new to me, so I'm not going for a lot of plot. That said, I spent a lot of time letting the characters argue in my head and this is the result of that. I hope you like it. Also, I did throw in some British-isms, feel free to tell me I suck at it.**

**Chapter One**

The first thing that Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, became aware of was that he couldn't breathe. It was followed shortly by the realisation that he was underwater and that his armour and chainmail were weighing him down. He kicked violently at the loose, sandy ground beneath his feet, even as he yanked chunks of metal over his head.

Free at last, he kicked one last time and started to rise. He broke the surface and gasped. Air had never tasted so…foul. He grimaced and coughed, splashing furiously to stay afloat. He shook his matted hair out of his eyes and tasted the air again. It was odd, thicker than it ought to be. He mopped his brow and looked to the shore, about twenty feet away and completely deserted.

It begged the question, where was Merlin? He remembered Merlin talking to him before things had faded to little more than nothing. That said, he had heard Merlin's voice raised in horrific depth as he roared in another language at someone, something. He didn't think it was him, at any rate.

"Merlin," he muttered darkly, his voice so unused that it barely made a sound, and swam for shore. His muscles burned unpleasantly as he moved. How long had he been underwater? Where the hell was he anyway?

Well, in a lake, obviously, probably the lake he was supposed to be in, but they hadn't made it. Hadn't even been close, when he'd…died. Gods, that was what happened, wasn't it? Damn. He gasped aloud as he dragged himself onto the shore. He rolled slowly onto his back and breathed heavily, staring at the sky. It was then that he noted it was night and there were no stars. He squinted. Well, there were a few, but nowhere near enough.

He grimaced and rolled over, looking at the grass. "Merlin," he murmured. His voice was still thick. He swallowed and called more loudly, "Merlin!"

No one came. He growled and dragged himself further up the bank. "Stupid…useless…servant…clotpole!" He got up the rise and stared. The forest was gone. Some sort of black surface split the grassy land in the moonlight. "What the hell?" he asked no one in particular.

Two bright lights caught his right eye and he stared as they, and a large contraption on thick wheels raced by, spewing heavy fumes into Arthur's face. He hacked loudly and recoiled from the path. A loud screech made him look that the thing, which was stopping. "Hello?" called a voice from within it.

Another light struck his face and his blue eyes blinked rapidly. "Hey, are you alright? Hey!" Feet crunched in the gravel on the side of the road. Arthur blinked uncomprehendingly. He didn't understand. What was he saying? It was a he, after all. The hand that touched his shoulder was wide and calloused.

He reached up and gripped the hand. "Merlin," he whispered, and his vision swam. Then he sagged to the ground.

…

"Doctor Emrys?" Merlin looked up from the computer at his desk. He was supposed to be researching a variation on a new antipsychotic, but he was actually watching last week's episode of _Top Gear_. He still looked like he was in his early twenties, with big ears and pretty, blue eyes, but, aside from the odd comment about plastic surgery, no one mentioned the fact that he didn't look like he should even be out of medical school, let alone a tenured physician.

"What is it, Leon?" he asked the curly-haired intern.

"A bloke in A&E was found soaking wet on the side of the road. He's speaking gibberish, doesn't seem to understand anything we're saying, and is terrified of everything and reacting violently. We tried to sedate him, but he started having an allergic reaction. Also, we ran his blood; he's not had inoculations for any modern diseases."

"You think he escaped from a cult or something?" Merlin asked.

Leon shrugged, playing with the pen in his scrubs' pocket. "Dunno. I've not seen him yet. Dr. Waters sent Gina to find you but she got called away, so now I'm telling you."

Merlin's eyebrows went up. "Dr. Waters is also a psychiatrist, Leon. Why is he summoning me?"

Leon's broad shoulders twitched. "Gina said that the only thing the patient said that she understood was 'Merlin'. Maybe, sir, since your name is Merlin, he'll talk to you."

Merlin swallowed and nodded. He wouldn't let the hope that was rising from the pit of his stomach get any higher. Just because Leon was back, didn't mean that Arthur was. He'd come across Gwen, all the knights and even Uther and Morgana over the centuries. Freya too. It was in 1713 when they'd met again, she didn't remember him beyond a feeling of attachment and love. Merlin had felt happy for a time.

A brief time, as he hadn't seen her since.

But if this was Arthur—no! It was just some crazy person who was part of some cult that tried and failed to produce magic. "I'll go down immediately."

Leon nodded and retreated. Merlin sighed and minimised the frozen video. He got up and stretched, listening to the cricks he ought to hear. Then he remembered he was stuck at twenty-three and rolled his eyes. No matter how long he lived, he still felt odd, watching everyone else age. He sighed, feeling the cracks that weren't there and took a step to the door, only slightly stumbling as he hit the corner of his desk. He winced and left.

The elevator doors opened onto the chaos of the A&E. "Coming through!" said a doctor pushing a gurney in his direction. He leapt out of the elevator and cut through the filled room, filing past curtains, glancing in surreptitiously, something he knew better than to do. Shouting at the far end, in a language he'd not heard spoken aloud in centuries, marked the place where King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot waited for him.

Merlin couldn't help the smile that curled his lips all the way up to his ears.

**To be continued...**

**A&E means Accidents and Emergencies in Britain. The other words should be easy enough to figure out. **

**So, please tell me what you think, mostly because I don't know what I'm doing here and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. That, and I'll give you all cookies.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, I'm glad I got such resounding approval. Thank you reviewers, favoriters and alerters. I love you and you each get a kiss shaped cookie:) **

**I own nothing.**

**11/9/2013 Edit: I have corrected my errors with regard to UK Geography, thanks to Guest Anon and MinistryofMagic13. Thanks for your help and I apologise for the mistake.**

Arthur was torn between afraid, angry and confused. These people didn't speak his language, but everyone spoke the same, didn't they? Save for spell casting. He growled at the woman who insisted on sticking him with what looked like a needle attached to a contained vial. He didn't like it. The first time she'd done it, he felt very unpleasant until an older man stuck another another into his leg. Now, both of them were trying to communicate with their foreign words, which he ignored. "I need to see Merlin!" he yelled, as if being louder would fix the situation. He caught the girl's wrist and pulled her face close. "Merlin!" he snapped.

"Merlin," the older man said, catching Arthur's attention. The young man nodded stiffly. That was the most communication the two had managed thus far.

"Dr. Waters?"

Arthur rounded on the new visitor. He grinned for a second, taking in his servant, dressed oddly, to be sure, but Merlin, nonetheless. Wait, he was supposed to be angry. The smile dropped away to a pout. "Where _have_ you been?" he bit out.

Merlin cocked his head to the side, as if he didn't understand, didn't recognize him. Rage flared in Arthur's bright blue eyes. "_Mer_lin," he said, warningly.

Merlin ignored him. "Is this the patient?"

Dr. Waters nodded. "He's not speaking any language I recognize. At first glance, it seems Germanic, but Dr. Audrey speaks German she says that's not it, not to mention the fact that there are splashes of Latin in there as well."

Merlin looked at Celine Audrey, as she continued to eye the blond, waiting for him to be distracted enough to try to get in another needle.

Arthur was not to be deterred by the fact that Merlin didn't recognize him, or even speak properly. "Merlin, this isn't even a little bit funny. What sorcery is this? Tell me, now."

"You're right, he does seem to be saying my name, repeatedly. We might be able to communicate like this." Merlin hesitated. Arthur, even in his mind, the name carried an excited tingle, would straight up murder him once he realized the farce. Until then, this would be fun. He moved to stand beside Audrey and pressed a hand to his chest. "Merlin. Merlin Emrys." He drummed his chest for emphasis and then pointed to the woman beside him. "Celine Audrey." He pointed across the bed. "Marcus Waters." Then he pointed at Arthur, twerking his eyebrows in a questioning fashion.

Arthur's mouth worked. He bit his tongue against the outrage. Whatever was going on, Merlin was dead. But for now, he grunted and muttered, "Arthur Pendragon."

"Arthur Pendragon?" Dr. Waters asked.

Arthur looked at him questioningly. Daring him to argue. But he was as unflappable as any psychiatric doctor. He simply nodded and took down the name on the chart.

"Maybe that's why he's looking for Merlin," Celine murmured to the other doctor. "He's looking for his wizard."

Merlin bit back a grin. "Would you mind terribly if I took this one, Marcus? He does seem to respond to me better."

Waters nodded. "Fine with me. I don't exactly want to spend my night trying to communicate with someone who doesn't speak English."

"Oh, but it is English," Merlin murmured.

"What?"

It's Olde English."

"I know what Olde English sounds like. It's all Shakespearian sounding, not like that," Audrey countered, a frown on her face.

Merlin sighed and wished he'd been around when the Shakespearian dialect was dubbed Olde English. He'd have smacked the man upside the head. "Actually, Shakespeare's English is far closer to modern English than it is to Olde English. You said there was German with hints of Latin? That's Olde English."

Waters quirked his lips. "Oh Doctor-of-Many-Talents, would you happen to speak Olde English?"

Merlin ignored the sarcastic nickname he'd picked up this round of med school. It was far from the most insulting thing he'd been called. "A little. Very little. I do however, speak German and understand Latin. I think we can manage."

Waters rolled his eyes and looked at the stubborn patient. He frowned. The blond was glowering at Dr. Emrys with familiar annoyance. Almost as if he knew the other man. But why wouldn't Merlin say anything about it? He shrugged and let it go. "I'll be going then." He turned on his heel and strode out.

"Dr. Audrey, we're fine here."

Celine nodded and set aside the syringe she'd been toying with. "Give us a shout," she murmured. Merlin nodded and yanked the curtains shut.

"You're such a…dollop head," Arthur muttered darkly at Merlin's back.

If Merlin hadn't known the man so well, he wouldn't have heard the hurt in his voice. He grinned. "Can't have that, then. You're not supposed to use my own made up insults against me, sire."

Arthur jerked violently as the words, in his own language, came from his best friend's lips. "Merlin," he said with a grin.

Merlin turned back to him, with a matching smile plastered across his face. "Welcome back," he whispered. "I've missed you."

Arthur licked his lips. "How long has it been? What is this place?"

"You're in a hospital. It's a place where physicians gather to heal the sick and injured. You were found by the side of a road. They brought you here."

Arthur nodded. He remembered a hand gripping his shoulder.

"As for how long it's been, well, roughly fifteen hundred years." Merlin said it without inflection. He didn't know what would do the worst damage, so he stuck with nothing at all.

Pain and shock still ripped through Arthur's gut. It was a span of time he could hardly fathom. "How is that possible? I mean, you haven't aged a day."

"Really?" Merlin gave himself a once over before shrugging. "I guess not."

Arthur shot him a dirty look. "Don't give me that."

Merlin sighed. "You remember the Dorocha?"

"Of course."

"You know that no mortal has ever survived their touch."

"Yes." Arthur was getting impatient.

Merlin gave him an 'Are you stupid?' look.

It clicked. Merlin hadn't died. It had been a near thing, but he'd come back, like nothing had ever happened. "You...you're..."

"Immortal," Merlin finished. "And I've been waiting a long time for you to show your stupid face." He felt water rise to the corners of his eyes, but he blinked it away.

Arthur swallowed, trying to let it sink in.

But it was too much.

He didn't think he would be able to wait for fifteen hundred years for Merlin to come back from the dead. "Why now?" he asked at last. He didn't want to think about Merlin's loyalty right now. It was almost too much to bear.

"Kilgharrah said that you would return when Albion's need was greatest."

"What of Albion?" Arthur asked. "And Camelot?"

"Gone, both of them. This country is now called England, on an island called Great Britain. It's part of the United Kingdom, comprised of England, Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales. And we all get along, more or less."

Arthur frowned. "Is there no more war or battle?"

Merlin snorted, recalling the British wars in the last one hundred years alone. World War One, the Ottoman Empire, Afghanistan, Irish War for Independence, Iraq, Palestine, Israel, World War Two, Viet Nam, Malaysia, Korea, a smattering of rebellions in the African and Asian colonies, Ireland again, Argentina, Lebanon, the Gulf War, Bosnia, Iraq again, Kosovo, Sierra Leone, Afghanistan again, Iraq yet again and Libya most recently, though Afghanistan continued to be problematic.

"There's still plenty or war," Merlin said, at last. "We just don't fight it at home any longer. The world's gotten a lot bigger since you left it." Then he grinned. "Oh, and just so you know, the Earth, that's the planet we live on, it's a sphere. The world is not flat. It's round."

**To be continued...**

**I just had to get a parting shot in at the Earth is Flat believers. **

**So tell me what you all think. I love reviews!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I own nothing. I also apologise for the lateness of my final chapter. Real life is a psycho bitch who wants me and my family to suffer. Moving on, here is the last chapter.**

**Chapter Three**

Arthur and Merlin chatted for a long time. When Leon stuck his head in to ask his mentor for help, Arthur's joyous cry and attempt to get out of bed had Leon scurrying back while Merlin lunged to hold him down. "He doesn't remember anything, none of them do," he whispered in his king's ear. To Leon, he called, "Did you need me for something?"

"Uh, not exactly, I was just worried when you didn't come back." He cast a nervous look at Arthur, who countered it with one of mild disdain. How could anyone forget him?

"We're fine, Leon. Arthur and I are acquainting ourselves. It's a touch hard. I don't remember Olde English as well as I thought I did."

Leon nodded, rather than argue about something he didn't understand. "If you say so. Just don't forget, you have a meeting with the new head of Neurosurgery in half an hour."

Merlin grimaced. "I'll head up in a bit. Go do sutures or something."

Leon frowned, examining the two men. There was an odd closeness there. He felt a bit lonely, watching the two, before he quashed it and went to take in a new patient with a vague, "Yes, sir."

"We need a cover story," Merlin murmured, watching the young man's back retreat.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"I need you to be able to leave here at some point, but you're speaking a no longer recognized language and Dr. Waters, and now probably Leon, think you're insane."

"But I'm not," Arthur countered.

"I know, but that doesn't matter." Merlin gritted his teeth, thinking. "Alright, your name is Arthur Penn. Your birthday is," he did the math, "June fifteenth, 1984. Remember that day and year. I'll fudge the paperwork."

"Arthur Penn. June fifteenth, 1984," Arthur repeated.

Now Merlin's face turned grim. "I'm also gonna have to do a spell."

Arthur stiffened up completely. "Why?"

"Don't get upset. It's a language spell. I used it during warfare when I didn't know what the other side was saying. It will allow you to understand and translate everything you say to Modern English. That's the common language here and in America."

Arthur decided against asking what America was. Instead, he eyed Merlin's hands with suspicion.

"Or you can go on being unable to communicate with anyone but little ol' me."

Arthur's teeth gritted. "Do it," he grumbled.

"Is that an order, sire?" Merlin quipped.

The king just looked at him.

Merlin smiled and got up to readjust the curtains. Then he raised his hand and mumbled in the language of the Old Religion. Arthur stared into the blue eyes turned amber. He felt a light ruffling in his brain and then the amber light faded from his friend's eyes. "I'm speaking English, now, Arthur. Can you understand me?"

"Yes," Arthur replied in kind.

"Good," Merlin replied. "Now I have to go to a meeting with a brain doctor. You stay here, answer questions and let Dr. Audrey jab you. Times have changed and disease is a fair bit more prevalent now. You need to protect yourself. If she asks about medication, just say you don't know. If she asks about family history, you can't thing of anything important, and for everyone's sakes, do not say that you are the Once and Future King."

Arthur raised his eyebrows at the list of lies he was supposed to tell. "If I must."

Merlin smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good. I'll be back to check on you after my meeting." He picked up the chart, scribbled on it and added, "By the way, if anyone asks what happened to you, you say you're a fan of Arthurian Legends and practising and so when you fell in a lake and almost drowned, you forgot who you really were."

"Yes, yes, Merlin. My name is Arthur Penn. Birthday is…June fifteenth, 1984 and my drowning turned me into an insane person who thinks he is King Arthur."

"Exactly," Merlin said brightly. "I'm off."

He left with a grin on his face, heading up to his office. He'd just settled back into his desk when there was a rap on the door frame. He looked up to see a young woman in an open lab coat that reached to the hem of a colorful skirt. "Hello Dr. Emrys, I'm Dr. Coulby, the new neurosurgeon?" She made it sound like a question. "Actually, I'm the new head of neurosurgery. Sorry, I'm a bit early." She stepped in and extended her hand. "I...sorry, I'm babbling a bit. Call me Gwen."

Merlin didn't think he'd ever stop smiling as he stood and took her hand, lifting it to press a kiss to her knuckle before he could stop himself. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Merlin."

…

Down in the waiting area, Leon was approached by a young man with longish, brown hair and goatee. "Excuse me, I brought in the doused bloke early this morning. Is he alright?"

"You mean the blighter who thinks he's King Arthur?" Leon asked with a snort. Word traveled fast.

The driver of the car narrowed his eyes, making Leon stop. "He's recovering. Apparently, he only speaks Olde English, so communication is difficult, but he isn't ill or injured from his dip in the lake, Mr.—"

"Gwaine, just Gwaine. I thought I might've hit him. I'm glad he's alright. Well then." Gwaine turned and walked away.

"You're not going to stay?" Leon asked.

"Doesn't work like that. I'm not his keeper. As long as he's fine, then," he didn't finish the sentence, just walked away.

Leon shook his head in frustration. Everyone was acting strange today.

"I require something to drink!" a voice yelled imperiously. Leon peered down and saw Dr. Audrey backing away from the curtained bed of "King Arthur".

"Huh," Leon murmured. "I guess he can speak English when he wants something." Then he figured he'd better get the required drink. Aubrey, after all, seemed too shocked to move. Besides, if Merlin—Dr. Emrys—wanted to help the poor sod, he could certainly do the same.

**The end...**

**Thanks for reading and all the reviews. You guys are super-mega awesome. Please let me know your last thoughts and I'll respond with cookies:)**

**~Cheyanne**


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